Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nicaragua and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Livin' Joy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
It's A Beautiful Day,
X-102,
Goldenarms,
Robert Hood,
Gong,
Boredoms,
Hashim,
The Young Rascals,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alton Ellis,
The Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pulsallama,
Circle Jerks,
Can,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sam Rivers,
The Trojans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
OOIOO,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ponytail,
Rekid,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Byron Stingily,
Brand Nubian,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Velvet Underground,
U.S. Maple,
10cc,
The Selecter,
The Stooges,
Moby Grape,
Television Personalities,
David Bowie,
The Real Kids,
Amon Düül II,
Mantronix,
L. Decosne,
Clear Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Leaves,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Warsaw,
China Crisis,
Altered Images,
One Last Wish,
The Litter,
The Searchers,
X-Ray Spex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.